Snow Wonder
by Moonbutton
Summary: Christmas sap. Sorry.


i) It snowed last month; we don't get a lot of snow and I got all excited, then wrote this : )

ii) Those who wanted a continuation of 'X', consider this it - though I don't think it's really necessary to have read that story first.

iii) Merry Christmas.

* * *

Snow Wonder

Snowflakes were falling.

Jarod smiled contentedly to himself from behind the window as he watched them trickle gently to the ground, each one making its own swaying path from above. Even now, having experienced so many winters, he still thought it was beautiful. As a child, trapped in the Centre, he'd longed to see snow - he couldn't recall any memories from before his incarceration. Sydney had given him a snowglobe and he'd spent most of his free time watching the artificial simulation of snowfall, his longing growing with each viewing.

When he finally made a bid for freedom to the roof of the Centre all his expectations had been surpassed. The feel of the snow on his hands and face, the way it clung to his clothes, the soft, crunching that sounded beneath his feet, and watching the flakes fall from the thick, black sky - tracking one flake on its lazy, hypnotic descent to the ground. For a few precious moments catching snowflakes in his hands had meant everything. It had been magical. It still was, his enthusiasm had not wained through exposure.

This snowfall was similar but it was also very apt: it was Christmas morning. Being able to experience winter first hand he'd swiftly learnt of the association between snow and the holiday season and a layer of snow would please many - himself included, naturally. There were other causes of his exceptionally good mood. That afternoon his father, sister, and rescued younger self were expecting him; this would be the first Christmas they'd all be together. He hadn't seen them in such a long time, not in person anyway. Though he knew of the religious apsects surrounding Christmas he was still undecided about religion. He preferred to embrace those aspects of the season he agreed with; peace on Earth, goodwill to all men, and to spend the time with loved ones. And he was grateful he had the opportunity to do so.

He smiled again at the thought of his family. He had deliberately kept a very low profile for some time. There had been no pretends, no clues to the Centre - in fact, no contact at all with those at the Centre. And, though in some ways he'd felt isolated, he'd never felt better. In fact, he'd never appreciated his freedom so much. There was only one dark cloud: he still hadn't found his mother. But he was optimistic; with no pretends he was able to focus more time on the search for his mother. As this year drew to a close he had proven that the seemingly impossible could be acheived and next year, he felt sure, would be his year.

He shivered a little in the cold kitchen. Clad only in the pyjama bottoms he had slid on when he left the warm bed upstairs, he rubbed at his arms, hugging his chest. Staring at the coffee pot he willed it to boil quicker even though he knew it was scientifically impossible to alter the boiling point of a liquid by thought alone. Still smiling to himself he took two cups from the cupboard, the snow outside catching his eyes again. There was still a gentle pace to its descent however if that changed he might have to set off a little earlier to get to his father's place - if he was able to get there at all.

His childhood glimpse of snow had, in retrospect, been misleading. It may be beautiful, seductive and innocent in its appearance but snow could turn against you in an instant; catch you unawares, threaten your very existence, freeze you, cause you to slip up. Snow was potentially very dangerous and needed to be given the respect it deserved. He had been at the mercy of the elements several times in the last few years o he knew exactly how unforgiving the weather could be. Part of his mind began to run calculations regarding travelling times but being snowed in, he thought a little guiltily, wouldn't exactly be the end of the world.

As the coffee finally boiled he poured out the two measures required and made his way back upstairs, taking a sip from one cup as he went, the hot liquid spreading through him and negating some of the chill. Entering the bedroom he took a couple of steps before he ground to a halt, stopping to admire the other occupant of his bed and the main cause of his current euphoria.

Wrapped up in sheets, her head and shoulders just visible - she was beautiful. And much less of a handful when she was asleep. Like the gently falling snow outside she was a sight to behold. Miss Parker had come to his attention around about the same time as his introduction to snow and he'd found her just as fascinating. Those clear blue eyes that sparkled mischeivously, the sweet smile, her fearless curiosity. He'd followed her all over the Centre as a child but as adults it had been her who had done all the chasing. Right until about six monhs ago.

She roused slowly as if she'd somehow known he was there though he was certain he hadn't made a sound. "That better be coffee," she warned, eyes half open and focussing lazily in his general direction.

He smiled wider at her sleepy tone and at his own good fortune. "Merry Christmas, Parker," he said softly but made no move towards her. He was still too busy admiring her - it had taken him almost half an hour to drag himself out of bed earlier for that same reason. As pretty as the scene was outside it wasn't a patch on the one inside.

She slowly propped herself up on one elbow, her free arm tucking the sheets across her chest keeping a semblance of modesty. She looked directly at him; "My coffee," she demanded, one eyebrow perfectly arched.

His childhood glimpse of Miss Parker had also been misleading; she was beautiful, bewitching, and could appear entirely innocent but she too - he had later found out - had the potential to be very dangerous. She had turned against him, had threatened him on numerous occasions, and had, eventually, caught him out. She was definitely just as potent a force of nature as the snow and therefore needed to be handled just as carefully.

She shuffled impatiently and he watched her movements closely, his memory filling in the parts of her he couldn't quite see at that moment. Then again, like the snow, he hadn't tired of the sight of a naked Miss Parker through exposure. "Why don't you come here and get it?" he asked, semi seriously. She smiled briefly at his hint of defiance before pasting on her best Ice Queen face.

"You seem to be forgetting one little thing," she responded coolly, "I caught you - you're mine."

She was going to hold that 'little fact' over him for the rest of his life but, as that meant he'd have her in his life, he really didn't care that much. She had caught him and, once it became apparent that she wasn't going to return him to the Centre, he'd willingly surrendered to her.

"Get your ass over here now," she ordered, smiling wickedly.

And he kept on surrendering to her, within his own limits of course. He disobeyed her command just long enough for that warning glance to dance in her eyes then walked slowly towards the bed, sitting down next to her in the spot he'd only just recently vacated. She smiled triumphantly, much like she had in that alleyway the day she'd 'trapped' him. Though he found it extremely difficult to deny her anything he did like to see that fire flare up in her - an addiction that on occasion led to some heated arguments. Of course, she always won.

Miss Parker sat up, still covering herself but only just, and took one cup from him, her fingers brushing against his as she did so. She savoured the aroma before taking a long sip. Her eyes stayed on his the whole time and he no longer needed the coffee to warm him up. Over the last few months he had quickly learnt the importance of coffee in her routine, especially first thing in the morning. And she'd quickly perfected the art of teasing him. Payback, he supposed.

Her eyes eventually travelled southwards, then slowly raked back up his chest before resting on his eyes again. "What time do we need to leave?" she asked, a very different kind of light burning in her eyes.

Jarod set his cup down on the bedside table, not taking his eyes off her. He did hold a few reservations about the afternoon's impending visit; mainly that he hadn't quite managed to tell his family that Miss Parker would be arriving too. Neither was he looking forward to revealing exactly how he and Miss Parker had finally 'united'; he still cringed inwardly at his 'downfall' and his family would probably find the story hysterical - and they'd know the truth because Miss Parker would delight in telling them exactly what had happened. Maybe it would be better if they got snowed in. "We have hours yet," he said softly.

"Good," she whispered into his ear as she leant forward. The sheets finally gave up their hold, slipping down her body and pooling at her waist, as she placed her mug down next to his on the table. "That means I've got time to give you your first present," she said softly, her eyes dancing at him, her face close to his.

Her lips were then on his, warm, soft and delicious, and he momentarily forgot everything else. She pulled away slightly after one long, deep kiss. "Merry Christmas, Jarod."

Smiling he reclaimed her lips. Gliding his fingers over her smooth skin he didn't care what other presents he received that day - they couldn't possibly compare.

Outside, snowflakes continued to fall.


End file.
